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By your grace | in winter's heart | flowers growYour painterly eyes... | the world a canvas | born of your sight, | a fluid river | of shadows and light.Core of mystery, | Firebirds gliding along the inmost sky, | Secrets from radiant eyes weeping, | Living waters washing over the living heart. From each set of eyes | a world of colour pours. | From each beating heart | the divine music of love.Moonlit warrior | slicing through the air, | shards of silence.Itinerant heart | In the source of now, sinking, | Rising a full moon.Drinking the light of your face, | the fountain of my soul, | a lover's song bubbling with grace.Born into colour, |The flower in spring’s white palm | Kissed by The One.Flowers of chaos, | A wild tumult of colours | Vying for The One.Full moon on the pond, | light breaking on cold water, | night, a silent breath.At night, in your bed, | draw me over you | like a nightsky full of stars, | every star a kiss | melting into your skin | exhaling infinite sighs.Love, | let me cradle you | as the sun cradles the earth, | heart, an infinite fountain | of joy and warmth.What is my heart if not your home | where the sun itself | unfurls from your womb.

His Poem

Like furrows of stars | his words ploughed through her skin, | fevered kisses along her curves | condensed into burning inkBeauty has her face for a name.Cradled in love's embryonic water.Blossoming | the tree transfigures the garden | as you, in my heart, | birth me as pure light.Submerged in this flow, | The waters of his river | Carrying her home.Love's exuberance - | Our tangled bodies the seat | Where the sun unfolds.Brimming with devotion | He planted his heart, | A kiss in her womb.Flying to the moon, | Twilight birds drunk | On your silent call.As the sky holds the earth | he held her into him, | his kiss into her forehead melting | a vaporous stream of wine.Moonflow melting | into the bay of dawn, | her face.She, plume of shadow, | And he the nocturnal ink | Burning in her veins.Macerated in silence, | my poem a white moon | sailing her blue dawn.Enwombed by his touch, | the fragrance of his silence, | the breath his lungs heaves | to plant her in his heart, | forever in the abyss | of his fervent light.In his touch | she longed to become, | poetry...Entwined at the roots, | a bond taking them | beyond life and death.A raindrop | hanging from the leaf, | falling, not falling.Cheek to cheek | silently kissing, | a world born of love.In the flowing stream | the light of the moon | is ever the sameCradle of passion, | our soldered bodies melting, | house of flame and love.This kiss – | Our open hearts | A single flame burning, | Subsumed into the living core, The heart of the One.On the branch of dawn we swayed, | two birds lost in the silence | of our open hearts.In the autumn wind | the howl | of lost voicesMy poem I lit like a candle, | all night long she kept vigil | into the darkness casting | the firebirds of your name.Inviolable | in the solitude of her soul | she stood, | the world like an endless poem | below her feet stretched. Against the winter sky | bare branches stirring | the dust of memoriesOn her face | the flame flickered | a sea of memoriesShades of dawn – | the moon’s silent ache | sinking in the seaThrough the silent pines | the sun’s fading rays, | my heart | another bird | returning home.Famished poem... | in the moonlight | her almond-flower skin | skyward heaving | a breathless sighIn the glow of sunset | my heart alone travels | a ship without sailsWhere am I? | In the whiff of your fragrance | Like a moth inside a flame | All sense of direction is lost, | And place is placelessness.Quick to fade... | in the grey of dawn | the sigh of dewdropsSilent joy of now… | a full moon whirling, | dervish in the skyMoon | over the hill | wax in my dreamsMy breaths... | shipwrecked poems | stranded in her skin, | stars burning | in a moonless night.Against the winter sky | bare branches stirring | the dust of memoriesPerfume of passion... | in the twilight air | the fragrance of her hair, | a mystic voice calling | night from its lair.How music is made... | bodies entwined | like crescent moons, | their light quivering | the soul of the night.In her navel | the dewdrops of dawn | he gathers, | a fountain | of tender moss and milk | flowing | softer than the light.All these words, | passion spilled | in burning dewdrops, | soliloquys I keep weaving | in the folds of her flesh, | in the cosmos of her skin | nebulas giving birth.His touch bathes her in a sea of lightMoon through the window… | a sea of poetry | aglow in her skinPointe de flamme… | mon amour frémissant | au-dedans de son être, | troublant sa mer | en vagues infini, | chacune un oiseau | volant le ciel d’aurore.Sobbing with desire | light in tender waves | relishing her skin, | Eros vanquishing | the absurdity of night.Dawn, | the sprawl | of their bodies | in the languid light, | the effervescence | of a poem | that burned | through the night.Searing her skin | his night of poetryThe length of her back | a roaring sea, | a canvas of dark waves | in each shaded breath screaming... | poetryMy teardrops | on her collarbones | hewn, | poems in her body | germinating | a cradle of fire, | the love ocean | where I am born.Amid the shadows | I flourish… | moon in the skyLight along her skin | erotica in sultry curves | exuding clouds of incense, | a softness that melts | the heart to poetry.Her skin | in the night wind | a script of ache | kissing each breeze | into a ribbon | meandering the sky | searching for homeAt dawn | a feather plucked | from your ribs | from the dewed ether | glides into my soul | and I sigh knowing | that you existWe danced like this | alone | in the darkness | where no one sees | even when we were | in a crowded room | full of prying eyesThe exquisite pain of fire | curling along her fragile neck, | the unbearable gentleness | that brings each poem to tears.From the nooks of her neck | my poem draws its breath, | a bird inhaling | the expanse of the sky.Opening | the gates of fire, | against your breasts | the soft press of poetry, | two flowering moons | shaking full of mead.Writing her skin | in endless streams | as her veins turn, | highways of stars, | streets where lovers | join and meet.Envisioning her womb, | the timeless mandala | where the seasons turn, | the timeless wheel of life | dancing its dance.In the deeps of darkness | your voice was the starlight | leading me homeFree to walk the earth as a rain drop dissolved in the ocean of the belovedAutumn’s playground… | the peel of lost voices | blowing in the airShared whispers | on the branch of dusk... | the promise of foreverStranger to the world… | behind far hills the | cold moon sinkingIn the fire of your eyes | poetry sheds her veils | and enters wordless, | its one desire to live | rooted in your heart.A cup of tea | warming my hands… | moon over the snowI see her and fill with ache, burn to merge with her in a totality of being that leaves no space between our bodies.A poet's life... | from a branch in the mist | a bird callingDusk over the woods… | amid the rustling leaves | a world of shadowsAll the roads spread | From the root source | Of her heart. | Traveling I always | Roamed through her veins, | Swam in her blood.The poet, | A silent assassin | Wielding her skin, | A blade of words | Plunged | In a sea of fire.Year after year | My green tea | Darker and more bitter, | Growing old | With my books.Miniature fig tree | In the shadow of your leaves | Garden poetry

Haiku Pond

Haiku pond | the shadow of a bird | passing at duskThe crow's black caw | a dagger stabbing | the heart of the moonالشمس على عري جسدها | كل أغصان الربيع | تترنح ثملةCome join me | a cup for two | filled with spring’s | holy nectarIn the fog | the limbs of cut trees | wailingWhen I knew the highs of your kiss | I no longer drank, | I no longer prayed, | and all my poetry was writ | with the salve of your lips.Le soir jette | son manteau noir ; | dans la mer de sa peau | mon cœur bat | en fleurs-étoiles.Agé de dix mille ans | le haïku fleurit… | lune dans la rivièreWild the dream | the moon's whirling skirt | a sufi in the skyYou the poem | I the poetry, | my blood in your skin | a transparent calligraphy, | the spread wings of birds | combining the sky.A ship longing | for its lost harbor… | her breath at dawnAll day all night in | her skin | dancing with the muse, | each etched verse | a chess move; | the spiral culminates, | checkmate, orgasm, poetry.Joined still | when dawn breathed, | a single body | jasmine white | quivering on the breast | of sleep as it heaved.A small cabin | in the heart of the woods, | snow falling thick | erasing everything, | and you and I | hemmed in, |by the window | drinking tea or wine | and reading poetry.Faded blue | waiting for a letter… | the mailbox of loveRed and luscious | it hangs from your bough, | the last of my poems, | the summer of my hopes.Her warming flow of wine | in the early morning chill, | the areolas of her breasts | flowering starlike | amid my thirsty lips.The street and its people | fell away from them, | a world warped | by their gravity, | the magnetism of their kiss, | their deep immersion | in the moment’s poetry.The sun has set, | through the waves of the night | I sift | searching for a curl | of your voice | to tuck against my heart, | a spark from your eyes | to light a candle | in the darkness of my soul.In dawn’s still hush | the breath of poetry | rubs against her cheeks; | full of sighs the wind | pours with dew.Moon in the river | alone crossing | the banks of autumnBreath of dawn, | breath of love infinite, | sun of my heart, | into your neck | my curled poem melts, | into the sea dreaming | behind your sleeping eyes.In my teacup | steeping | the white leaves of the moonClad in fog we vanished | into the mystic mountain of union, | inseparable we rose again | breathing open | wide as the sky.In my book of love | and so long as I can remember I| ’ve been writing you | a poem each day.My poem, a solitude on a journey of no return sailing ever deeper into you.Her body she offers, | a sea to be crafted | by the ink of his fire, | exalted on the altar | of lust and poetry.Love was between us | and she was a tailoress, | fitting my poems | to the curves of her skin, | the sinews of her breath.The anchor of your breath | once fell into me, | now my skin is all rust | from the salt of your sea.Shriveled kisses | in the midst of winter… | figs clinging still | to the promise of the skyLocked in exile | until a word comes from you; | word after word | I chronicle my exile and imprisonment, | my hidden journey with you.Her healing presence, | merging with him | she lights his fire | when it dwindles, | unafraid of his dark | she sees into him, | moves into him, | rooting his heart | in her boundless love.Cocooned in his love, | the flame of the goddess | ablaze in her body, | her skin against his shore | shuddering with the fire | of a thousand thousand waves.منسلاً عند الفجر | القمر فوق السطوح مداعبا | عري جسدهاThe fountain of life's water, | the birthplace of the moon.Lune sur mer… | mon cœur un piège | de vent nomadeGod painting the world dipped his brush in the inkwell of her body

Clothed by his poem, | every word etched | with the ink of a fire | that burned for ages | on the altar of his heart.

Listening intently to the music interweaving the waters of their souls.

Unknown Artist, Somewhere in FranceOn the trail of leaves | I lost my mind | gazing at the moon...From the empty chairs | her silhouette still watching | the dark rolling sea

Hazmieh, February 2018

Even an ugly city | can be beautiful… | falling rainThings half whispered… | between us | a candle-light world | merging the sighs | of our aching souls